Mark Richardson

Tears Of A Clown - Poem by Mark Richardson

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He lived the theatre motto, the show it must go onBut hid behind the made-up face, a life so very wrongHis uniform a badge, of his work that made him proudAll were brightly coloured, matched his booming voice so loud

A quiet man so meek and mild, was bullied all through schoolColin found the one way out; he played the old class foolThe only way to stop these names, was joining in their gamesJust laughed along ignored the pain, and tried to mask his shame

So leaving school a broken man, forever feeling downHe did what came so naturally, and went to play the clownStraight away he was a hit, they came from miles aroundThe circus was a sell-out, joking genius had been found

Yes every night Colin dressed, and all would chant his nameHis clowning tricks and clowning games, was bringing him this fameIn curly wig and baggy pants, he felt at total easeBig red nose and comedy feet, his job was just to please

But come the end of Showtime, when everyone goes homeThe pain returns to torture him, he suffers all aloneThe tears they flow they burn and etch, the make-up hides a frownSo no one knows, as no one sees, the tears of a clown

Comments about Tears Of A Clown by Mark Richardson

My favorite stanza:
But come the end of Showtime, when everyone goes home
The pain returns to torture him, he suffers all alone
The tears they flow they burn and etch, the make-up hides a frown
So no one knows, as no one sees, the tears of a clown